


tonight (i need you to stay)

by specialsnowflake



Series: i use deacury to cope [6]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Crying, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No romo, i said it was pre relationship but it's not really, it's really just hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25253095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/specialsnowflake/pseuds/specialsnowflake
Summary: A moment of silence passed between them. John was a bit mortified at seeing Freddie in such a state; he wouldn't even talk. Hopefully he'd find out more about the situation in the morning.
Relationships: John Deacon & Freddie Mercury
Series: i use deacury to cope [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536128
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> finally i write something!

When John opened the door, he found a likely drunk, shivering Freddie on the steps. The rainstorm had drenched his clothes; it's a good thing John got to him in time, otherwise he'd have frozen. 

"Freddie." 

Freddie shot up at the mention of his name. His eyes were red from crying, and something painful twisted inside of John. He outstretched his hand toward Freddie. 

"Come on, let's get you inside." 

A pause, but then Freddie took his hand- God he was cold- and staggered through the threshold. John led him into the living room, where he kicked off his shoes before hunching over on the couch. Poor thing looked utterly defeated, but John would save the questions for later. Right now, he needed to make sure his friend wouldn't die of hypothermia. 

"Take this," he said, and grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch. John draped it around Freddie's shoulders, who clutched onto it for dear life. 

"Do you want something to drink," John asked, crouching to meet Freddie's eyes, "Coffee? Tea, maybe?" 

Freddie just shook his head and shrank into himself a little more. John's heart sank at that; he must've really been freezing. 

A moment of silence passed between them. John was a bit mortified at seeing Freddie in such a state; he wouldn't even talk. Hopefully he'd find out more about the situation in the morning. 

"Do you want to get out of those clothes? They're soaking wet." 

After a second of deliberation, Freddie nodded. 

"Wait here," John said, and went to his bedroom to retrieve some clothes. They were around the same size, so finding something suitable wasn't difficult.

John brought the clothes back to Freddie, who hadn't moved an inch. "Do you remember where the bathroom is? I think I might also have a spare toothbrush in there."

Freddie nodded again and rushed off to the bathroom without a word. John made sure to stay by the door in case he needed him. While he didn't want to invade Freddie's privacy, he could've sworn he heard him sob a few more times. A few minutes later, Freddie emerged, eyes red once again. 

"I've put my clothes in the washer," Freddie admitted quietly. His voice sounded small, such a contrast from his usual exuberance. John nodded and gave him his best smile. 

"Okay, we'll take care of it in the morning. Now let's get you on the couch? You must be tired." 

Freddie sauntered over to the couch and swaddled himself in the blanket. He stared at the ceiling for a few long moments, eyes wide open before finally shutting them. 

"Good night, Freddie," John said, trying to keep his voice level. Seeing Freddie so upset almost made him want to cry too. He held his breath for a few moments, waiting to hear a reply. 

"Good night, John."

Relieved, John retired to his bedroom. 

It took him some time to get relaxed, but right as he was about to drift off he felt the bed dip next to him. An arm came around his waist. He was surprised but allowed the gesture and started to fall back asleep. He would ask questions in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What happened," John asked quietly. 
> 
> "I'm- it's a long story." 
> 
> "I've got time."
> 
> Freddie went quiet for a long moment, and John began to think he wouldn't get a reply at all. But he wasn't about to stop questioning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on making a second chapter but this is for orangetrees, who wanted to know more. Thank you for your comment!

The next morning, John found Freddie sitting up in bed. He seemed just as bewildered as the previous night, staring blankly at the wall. John would eventually have to ask what exactly was going on with him, but he just seemed so shaken. 

“Freddie?” 

His eyes were watery as they met John’s, and that sinking feeling from last night returned.

“John, hi,” Freddie said, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. “Terribly sorry about last night. I don’t know what came over me.” He punctuated the sentence with a deliberate chuckle and his best fake smile. 

“It’s alright. Do you want to talk about it now?” 

Freddie shook his head. “Not particularly, but you know what I’d love? Some of that whiskey you've got in your cabinets.” 

"Whiskey," John asked, incredulous. He turned to look at the clock on his nightstand. "It's eight in the morning!" 

"No time like the present," Freddie shrugged, and moved to get out of bed. John placed a hand on his leg. 

"No. I'm not letting you get drunk at 8 am."

"John," Freddie whined. "I really need to just...get absolutely hammered." 

"You're still hungover from last night, right?" 

"Only a little bit. Come on, I can handle myself," he said, gripping John's arm. "Off to the kitchen we go." 

"No. I think we should talk about last night. Then we should think about getting some breakfast." 

Freddie only scoffed and settled back in bed. He really seemed to be miffed about being denied alcohol. 

"What happened," John asked quietly. 

"I'm- it's a long story." 

"I've got time."

Freddie went quiet for a long moment, and John began to think he wouldn't get a reply at all. But he wasn't about to stop questioning. 

"Why did you come here? Are you still with that guy, um," John tried to recall his name but it escaped him in the moment. 

"Mark," Freddie supplied, and John didn't miss his face fall as he mentioned his ex. "He threw me out." 

John frowned. "What happened?" 

Tears began to well up in Freddie's eyes again. "I don't know," he cried. "I...I thought we were doing good. You know, we were living together, we had cats and then suddenly…he tells me he doesn't want me anymore. Says he's found someone else." 

"That's awful." John placed a hand on his back, rubbing up and down. He could've sworn he saw Freddie leaning into the touch. 

"So I go to the bar, the one just a couple blocks away and try to get as hammered as I can. I got out on the dance floor, and you know I don't dance," he gave a small, self deprecating chuckle. "Got a bit too handsy with some guy. He called security, and they threw me out. Your building was the first one I saw." 

John nodded. "I'm sorry you had to go through that." 

Freddie met John's eyes. "You don't have to apologise for anything." 

The words are heavy and laced with some sort of deeper meaning, but John isn't quite sure what. Freddie's gaze is notably intense. They hold the stare until John gives him his best smile. 

"So, how about breakfast?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably make a third part and wrap it up there. Thank you for your feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There wasn't much in John's cupboards for them that morning, and so he finally settled on making them toast. 
> 
> "Sorry, I don't have much else," John admitted as he set down their plates at the coffee table. "We can go out later on if you like." 
> 
> "That's alright, dear. I'm not very hungry anyway."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, and welcome to the third chapter. I almost forgot about this story but got motivated to write it again. Thank you for your feedback thus far. Hopefully you enjoy the final chapter.
> 
> trigger warnings for mentions of food.

Freddie sat in the living room, not quite as bad as last night but still somewhat shaken up. He was at least responsive now, but still seemed preoccupied. John decided to let him be and make them breakfast. There wasn't much in John's cupboards for them that morning, and so he finally settled on making them toast. 

"Sorry, I don't have much else," John admitted as he set down their plates at the coffee table. "We can go out later on if you like." 

"That's alright, dear. I'm not very hungry anyway." 

That was a lie, considering how quickly Freddie ate his toast. They ate in relative silence until the meal drew to a close. 

A silence grew between them until Freddie spoke. "Well, this is embarrassing." 

"What is?" 

"I, um," Freddie drew out his sentence, looking around the room as if to be reassured of what he was about to say. "I don't have a place to stay."

That surprised John, and he raised his eyebrows. "Mark was your only… oh god, Freddie." 

"We were serious," Freddie defended himself. "Mark told me that we were practically married and...that we'd have a nice flat together…" he trailed off. John remained incredulous. It made him dislike Mark even more. 

"That's alright. You can stay here until you find somewhere else," John offered. "I'm sure there's plenty of properties to look at." 

Freddie smiled for the first time since last night. He wrapped an arm around John's neck and pulled him in for a hug. "Thank you." 

"It's, uh, no problem," John replied, and awkwardly broke the hug. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Freddie stared at John in a way he couldn't quite describe. It almost made him uncomfortable, but not quite. 

"Do you need to go back to Mark's and get your things," John asked after a few moments. "You've only come here in last night's clothes." 

"Eventually I will," Freddie said. "But I'm not doing that today, that's for damn sure." 

John nodded. He reached forward to take their now forgotten plates, but Freddie stopped him. 

"I don't want to think about Mark. Do you still have Scrabble?" 

"Of course. It's just in the closet just down there. You can set it up while I put the dishes away." 

"That sounds perfect," Freddie exclaimed and stood up, and John went to the kitchen. 

"I'm going to kick your arse this round," Freddie called from the other room, and John could hear the Scrabble tiles in the box as Freddie carried it to the coffee table. 

John returned from the kitchen and gave Freddie a smile. "We'll see about that."


End file.
